


In This Moment

by BrookeSutter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trying to broaden my horizons, this is my first time writing something like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrookeSutter/pseuds/BrookeSutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Good thing what you want and what you need is the same thing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Roughly Influenced by song "Whore" by In This Moment_

Her tongue darted hastily from her dry mouth, craving some type of feeling only to relish the friction of her chewed lip. The afternoon sun languidly flitted across her overly pale skin, warming her skin like she desperately needed it to be warmed. Late fall descended on them like a desperate disease, tickling her suspicions that they weren't even close to being prepared for winter. As if she didn't have enough to worry about, considering her mother's repeated pleas for her to contact her and the council's seemingly indifferent behavior towards their safety or their survival, she could confidently claim that she was stressed out. It wasn't easy separating her personal life from camp business--she struggled with the line daily due to needing Raven and the left over residue of her mistake with Finn or her hatred for her mother and her need for her medical advice. One by one, the barriers were crumbling down and her personal, private life was broadcasted throughout their small area. Everyone knew about Clarke being the other woman, everyone knew that Dr. Abby Griffin pleaded on the daily for her daughter to return her calls when it wasn't a professional matter.

Bellamy approached her, his shoulder abnormally relaxed as he passed her a greenish canister half-full of hot water due to the fact that Monty _just_ finished boiling it. There was nothing pleasurable about hot water lining her esophagus but she greedily accepted what he offered because she hardly wanted to pass out due to dehydration. "Easy, Princess." He murmured before taking the emptied canister back. She shot him a look after her brain processed his comment, "What?"

"Don't tell me what to do." She muttered like a rebellious adolescent. It was the spark in his eye that challenged her to point out when he was doing _it._ Bellamy naturally possessed an attitude or a personality defect that used his charisma and leadership skills automatically. It was easy for him to forget that he wasn't in charge of Clarke, but it was also easy for her to remind him that he wasn't. It truly wouldn't bother her if he didn't get a fluorescent spark in his eyes the moment she complied--like he'd won something, like he was sizing her up. Another problem, Clarke liked being sized up because she devoured approval and rising to the occasion like a last meal but Bellamy didn't need to know how much she liked it.

Or maybe he already knew, "You sure?"

Clarke glared at him, "What's that supposed to mean?" Her lips twitched when her tongue ran across the slickness of her mouth but she rested her teeth on the moving muscle. The fire burning in her blue eyes landed on him--days and days of stress threatening to cause her to snap in that moment.

Bellamy was the most infuriating man that she knew--and apparently, if the rumors were true, he was all man. Objectively, she would say that he is an attractive specimen. Drunkenly, maybe after a cup or two of Monty's moonshine, she would admit that she'd thought about him in a sexual manner once or twice. Clarke chalked that up to close quarters and sexual frustration, stemming from actual frustration because of him. If Miller was constantly pushing her buttons, he might be the subject of her little fantasies--that she'd only had once or twice.

His eyes darkened as he wet his lip, "I've picked up on a few things, Clarke--" He used her real name as he stepped closer, "--and trust me, you like being told what to do somewhere in your mind...you don't listen for shit, but it gives you a little thrill...to be told what to do, to succeed in doing it." Of course, he was right because Bellamy Blake prided himself on being right. "But I think given the right orders, in the right moment, you would be a good student."

She snorted, "What part of my personality screams that I like _orders_?"

"The part where you're a total control freak, Princess. Too wound up...everyone needs their escape." He took another step closer until his breath was fanning across her face. "Maybe you'll figure out exactly what you need one day."

"I need a stable camp, not some cryptic speech about what you think you know about me." She informed him sternly, eyes glowing with intensity as she bitterly bit out, "Have a good afternoon, Bellamy." And the asshole actually smirked at her before he nodded, walking away from her.

**Later That Night**

Clarke was three sheets to the wind drunk, eyes awkwardly floating around the camp as she took another burning sip of her new favorite liquid--formerly, it was water but now she was reconsidering her choice. Monty's moonshine was acutely wonderful, stinging her senses as she swished it recklessly around her mouth. The sensitive skin of her lip folded between her teeth when she saw Finn cannily kiss Raven as if there'd never been a hiccup in their relationship or Clarke never existed. The fact that he so eagerly took her virginity, quickly ending sexually and then ending their relationship--not that there was really a relationship other than their now meaningless kisses and their _one_ time. 

Luckily, Clarke liked Raven and held no hard feelings towards her or vice versa.

That didn't mean Clarke was completely over being betrayed and screwed over. She was human and an idealist--she thought her first time would be equivalent to the movies not a damaging soap opera. It didn't have to be Finn but it _was_ Finn, it was the guy with a long-term girlfriend that bonded with her mother, practically worshipped her mother, while Clarke was coping with the relentless anger that filled her chest every time she thought about losing her dad. And she thought about it every night. Dreamt about it every night.

The blonde shut her eyes tightly, breathing through her nose before she stood up. Clarke wanted to feel something different, wanted to feel the frustration in her chest bloom out and strike someone. That someone always seemed to be Bellamy Blake--her easiest target. He wasn't a drunk as her, she was sure but he seemed to be flying high as she approached him, teeth tugging on her lip. The camp was operating functionally, rations were being distributed fairly, hunting was fair, resources were scarce but it'd been like that since day one. So, the only thing she could think of slipped through her tight lips, "I don't like being told what to do."

"Hmm...this again?" He looked over at her, a grin touching his lips in the process. "Okay, Princess, you don't like being told what to do. I was wrong." The way he said it indicated that he didn't believe her at _all._ The way he crossed his strong arms over his broad chest, the way he straightened his posture almost as if he were purposely trying to highlight their height difference made her feel woozy, almost fuzzy in an unexplained way. She blamed it on the alcohol and the rumored 'liquor lenses" from the batch of moonshine. For a moment, she let her eyes rest on the drop ship that formerly supported his weight and the cool air that flittered around her. Then, her eyes were back on his body as if she couldn't help herself.

Her teeth almost split her lip as she mimicked his position, crossing her arms over her chest without realizing how she pushed up her breast through the tank top she wore underneath her jacket. "You like telling people what to do...it makes you feel..." _Damn, I can't form a rational thought or a complete sentence._

"Satisfied." It wasn't an offer, it was an agreement to her incomplete thought. He was agreeing with her and that pissed her off--that meant he had more control of his wants and desires than her. What the hell? She was the one with the level-head. "Instructing people to do things my way leaves me satisfied...just like successfully reaching your goals satisfies you."

Clarke swallowed hard after a moment, averting her eyes from his arms. "You're not talking about camp leadership." She cursed the way the words sounded so breathless, as if he could make her breathless. _The moonshine,_ she quickly reminded herself.

"No, I'm not." He replied confidently, "Can I be frank?"

His objective attractiveness was becoming a problem in her current state of mind. "I guess, uh, about what?"

"I trust you." Bellamy looked at her with those same intense eyes that he used when he needed to deliver important news and discuss the lives of their people. It all but made her heart stop even if the stutters within her chest were almost deathly. "And you...we fight but you trust me...right?" He already knew the answer, he just wanted her to admit it. It was weird how much she trusted him after only having one friend her entire life, a friend she believed betrayed her trust for so long...how could she trust a stranger? It was one of her _irrational_ emotions that she handled underneath her stern demeanor.

Despite her thoughts, her mouth did not hesitate to supply him with a definitive answer. "Yes."

"Trust me when I tell you, I can teach you how to reach certain goals..." He smiled at her, "Be honest, you've heard the rumors."

_Ahhh, the rumors of Bellamy's sexual escapades._

Clarke frowned, "I hardly think your overactive sex drive is something to be proud of, Bellamy...it's remarkably atrocious, actually, how you've managed a ratio of eight known partners to my one in the matter of a month." She snorted momentarily, "And I doubt you've given a single one of your _girls_ the _I can teach you the wonders of the world_ speech."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "And what speech did Spacewalker give you, huh?" Bellamy started to chuckle, "He probably held your hand and let you figure it out on your own...let you stumble through the entire night when you _need_ a guide." Well, he didn't hold her hand. It sucked that he was aware of her entire sexual history, it sucked that he knew she was unexperienced...it sucked that he'd piqued her interest, too.

"Are you saying I'm incapable of having sex? It's easy, really, like that stupid game they have toddlers play. The cylinder goes in the hole." Her argument was shaky as she looked down at his boots before taking a deep breath and meeting his amused eyes. 

"Oh my god...you... _Clarke..._ you just effortlessly proved my point." He held his hands out to her in a defensive manner, "And I wasn't finished...you _need_ a guide, sure, but you also _want_ one."

Instead of answering--again, she blames the moonshine--she looked up at the stars and wondered for a brief moment what her mother would think about her daughter having this conversation. Clarke was an avid reader, alright...and _maybe_ she'd read something in one of the "restricted for minors" books one night, because she was curious, about the general gist of the relationship he was offering--not out of sexual interest, really, just because she wanted to know _why_ said books were restricted. _Maybe_ she understood him a lot more than she was letting on. And just _maybe_ her interest was a little more than piqued.

After she reviewed her knowledge, she thought about Bellamy and how powerless he must have been in his youth. His little sister lived under the floorboard, his mother had to keep them alive somehow and she imagined Bellamy, as cold as he could be sometimes, worried over them both. It made _sense_ for him to seek control in the bedroom--even if she hadn't heard the rumors concerning his "dominant" personality around the camp, rather the word "generous" and maybe once, "absolutely world shattering" but she usually tuned them out. There was a lot she didn't know about him, there was a lot she didn't need to know about him, but she knew it made logical sense for him to exercise his dominance sexually.

Then, she thought about herself. She thought about the responsibility on her chest and how it threatened to nearly kill her some mornings when she woke up--how she rarely wanted to be in charge anymore because she wasn't like Bellamy. Her disagreeableness didn't stem from a need to be in charge, but a need for order. When she argued, it wasn't for the sake of being right but because of her compassion towards her people. She wasn't a weak person but admitting that the thought of him fully capturing his personality and the thought of her letting go of the position she claimed because it was _right_ and she was _good_ at it, as well as her obvious need to perfect her technique, didn't make her weak--it made her open, more open than she'd ever truly been with anyone. She thought about learning how to draw, learning how to stitch wounds, learning how to wade through a river and it felt no different...learning how to please someone--

Essentially, becoming his submissive although, she was yet to learn the true meaning of that besides a seemingly textbook definition of the word. The restricted books weren't porn--they were just educational in their attempts to explain relationships as a whole. Clarke could say they were the "relationship advice and counseling" section on the Ark because of their logical and rational population.

"I'll think about it." Clarke whispered, her voice not as strong as before. He raised an eyebrow, testing to see if she was fucking with him. "Uh...honestly, I'll think about it when my head is clearer."

"Good."

She wanted to walk away but something stopped her, "And Bellamy...there's a lot to think about because of who we are--what we are to each other."

"The fact that you're considering something that will make you feel good is enough...for now." He added the 'for now' with his signature smirk. "You need help getting to your tent?"

Clarke declined, "I'll be fine...for now."

 


	2. Fuzzy

**One Week Later:**

Her partially exposed ivory skin met the neon orange of the emergency blanket from the bunker as she yawned, twisting her body until she felt something crack into place. The dewy feel of early morning settled over her until she could no longer use it as an excuse for her heavy eyelids. Apart from a few injuries and one botched hunting trip, Clarke thought the camp was running fairly well--hence her sudden ability to sleep soundly through the night and her sudden _want_ to stay in bed. Although, that could also be her desire to stay away from the oh-so-charming Bellamy Blake that kept her tangled in her minimum amount of bedding. Slowly, she pushed her fingers through her hair and sighed, kicking her feet off the bed as a means to force herself awake.

Most of the camp still slept soundly in their tents as she exhaustedly shuffled through the worn dirt, her boots dragging with an annoyingly thick sound. The tents were lined up in an orderly fashion after Monty suggested they conserve space between the wall. Clarke remembered how Bellamy complained about the man-hours but reluctantly took the suggestion after she interfered. She informed him of the consequence of using too much space and how expanding the wall would leave them open for grounder attacks quite adamantly. Consistently, she reminded herself of how well they worked as partners and it equally intrigued her and scared her. On one hand, she trusted Bellamy with her life. On the other, he was her _political_ partner and any sexual relationship, especially one where he held dominance and she submitted to him, would blur lines--even if she would maintain that they were equals despite the roles.

Fairly certain of what she wanted, Clarke struggled. She was under the direct impression that _if_ she and Bellamy were to engage in such a relationship, she wouldn't become a weakling to him. Psychologically, her role would match her personality--the real her, not the girl fashioned for survival. Clarke could take care of Bellamy, let her compassion and her nurturing nature fall into whatever relationship they formed. She knew she already cared for him and he returned the sentiment. Clarke knew he wouldn't try to hurt her on purpose, and that type of trust was essential. There was so much potential...

And so much to lose.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she yawned out the last of her sleepiness, pushing forward in her typical Clarke fashion until her feet met the metal of the drop ship. There was a small crash that vibrated off the metal walls and through her body. She wanted to groan, the sound too heavy for the early morning. "Uh...sorry." His gravelly voice shocked her because she was half-expecting it be Jasper or Monty knocking over her limited medical supplies--not Bellamy, not this early in the day. She could see the sleep touching his body, the way his shoulders were tight after the loud noise. His black curly hair was disheveled, his shirt wrinkled and his boots thrown on hastily. The sight of him made her heart plundered until she realized her medical supplies were rolling across the floor and her thoughts were betraying her.

Clarke rolled her eyes, slowly kneeling down to reorganize the sharpened knives and herbs. It took him a second before he bent down to assist her, guiltily smiling in the process because of the mess he made. Once the mess was cleaned, he regained his original stance while she checked the lids on the canisters. Bellamy's eyes lingered on her form, how her knees were _pressed_ into the floor of the drop ship and how the view of her ivory breast peeking out of her Henley mesmerized him. His eyes bored into her chest, watching it rise and fall until he was absolutely sure the pink flush of her skin was there.

She took in a hesitant breath before meeting his searing brown eyes. If he wanted to split-hairs, he would tell her that her typical Clarke face was failing but he didn't want to split-hairs. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you." He smirked, "Privately."

Clarke cleared her throat, eyes averting from his intense stare before she replied, "About what?"

"You know what..." His voice softened, causing her head to shoot up. "I just need to know where you are right now...if you've been thinking about it the way I've been thinking about it."

Her teeth dug into her lip, "Of course I...of course I've thought about it." She balled her hands into fist, steadying her swimming awkward thoughts. Her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks before she continued, "I've only been with Finn, Bellamy...but I know what I'm getting myself into with you. I know you're a natural dominant and I've got the qualities of a good submissive...apart from my stubbornness but I'm sure you'd enjo--forget that, uh, we're co-leaders and if we get involved...the complications could effect this camp."

"The odds of us being co-leaders forever...with the Ark coming down, we aren't going to be in this position much longer." Bellamy pointed out the awful truth of it all. The work they were putting forth would be overlooked once the "adults" came down. "And you're right, your stubbornness is a turn on." He took a step closer, never forgetting how she was still on her knees. "Whatever we do can stay between us. No one has to know now, no one has to know later." Clarke started to rise, placing the supplies on the table before she turned to him. "And if this become long-term, we can be private. Our sexual relationship won't be on display for the entire camp to pick apart."

"On a personal level, though, do you think we could separate our sex-life from our duties?" Clarke asked quietly, "I'll tell you now that I'm not going to let you be mean to me. Respect is necessary for this to proceed anywhere. Just because I submit to you, doesn't mean you're better than me."

"I know...I wouldn't hurt you Clarke. Humiliation isn't my thing." He offered her an understanding smile as he listened to her go through her expectations and rules.

"Good, it's not my thing either." Clarke replied, "Like I said, I've only been with Finn and although I'm interested...I'm nervous, too."

Bellamy nodded, "I understand."

"And sharing isn't my thing either." She told him, "So...your little sexcapades would have to stop."

He winked, "Consider it done, Princess."

"So you agree, if we do it...we'll take it slow and we won't tell anyone about our relationship in general." Her lip rubbed raw against her teeth, "I trust you, Bellamy. I trust that you won't do anything that I don't want done and I think we can communicate our limits fairly well..." She stepped closer until they were nearly touching, "We still have a lot to talk about...but if you want to know where my mind is, I'm leaning towards it."

"That's a relief."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback?

**Author's Note:**

> So first time writing something like this and I thought I would just give it a shot--tell me what you think?? Another confession? I write Explicit and Mature rated stories because it's a challenge for me because I am a virgin. I like writing something that challenges me to figure things out and learn new things. So, it always shocks me when I get these amazing reviews on my stories.


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